


the ballad of but first, coffee

by deerie



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-26
Updated: 2019-06-21
Packaged: 2019-12-18 09:14:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 12,458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18246845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deerie/pseuds/deerie
Summary: “I’ll break his kneecaps if you want,” Five says into his mug.“You adorable psycho trapped in a tiny child’s body, you,” Klaus coos. “Thanks, but I guess I have to decline, though your offer is tempting.”Five shrugs and takes another sip of his coffee.// It's a coffee shop AU! Wow, cool.





	1. they call me coffee i grind so fine

“You know,” Klaus says, flopping dramatically into the seat at the counter next to Five, “Vanya’s going to develop a complex if she finds out that you’d rather get a snicky-snack here than at her coffee shop.”

He flings an arm out to gesture at the interior of Griddy’s Donuts.

Five glares sidelong at his brother over the rim of his coffee mug. “If you tell her,” he enunciates very clearly, “no one will ever find your body.”

Klaus holds his hands up in front of his chest. “No, no, not me. Would I do a thing like that?”

Five grimaces before taking a large gulp of his coffee. “If you thought it would benefit you, I have no doubt.”

Klaus swoons in his seat. “Oh, Five, you wound me. To think, my _dearest_ brother would think so little of me, why – why, it hurts me right here, in this region,” he pokes blindly at the left side of his chest.

“The real question is,” Five starts. “Well, no, I have multiple questions. First question: how many times did dear old dad drop you on your head as a child?”

“Well, that implies daddy dearest ever held any of us and we both know that’s factually untrue,” Klaus says snidely.

Five continues, unperturbed, “And second: what are _you_ even doing here?”

Klaus slumps on the counter. He kicks his legs idly against the rungs of the stool, even though he’s so tall he shouldn’t be able to. He’s wearing those skin tight pants of his with the laces all the way up the sides, some ridiculous feather boa curled around his neck, and dark sunglasses.

It’s hardly appropriate for the weather outside, Five thinks. He’s going to catch a chill, and then he’s going to bitch about it for days.

“Ben said he wanted a raspberry-filled,” Klaus says, “but I’m starting to think that he only said that to get me out of the way.”

“Imagine that,” Five says dryly. It comes out fonder than he means it to. He’s really got to work on that. “Get you out of the way of what? Is he working on another painting?”

“ _Who_ ,” Klaus says gloomily. “ _Who_ do you think?”

Realization dawns on Five all at once. “Luther’s back already?”

Klaus slouches down farther into his seat. “He’s all,” Klaus pitches his voice to sound like Luther, “‘Klaus, you’re wasting your potential.’ ‘Klaus, what are you doing with your life?’ He sounds like Dad sometimes. It gets just a tad bit annoying after a while.”

Five tilts his head in agreement.

Before he can say anything, Agnes approaches them. “What can I get you, hon?”

Klaus grins sunnily. “Oh, just a raspberry-filled for the road.” He throws up a finger and twirls around in his seat, peering out the window briefly before turning back around. “And one with sprinkles if you don’t mind, darling.”

He winks at her.

Hazel coughs pointedly from the booth he’s sitting in. He frowns when Klaus spins around to peer at him.

“Oh, come on!” Klaus says, shooting finger guns at him. “I’m not flirting. I’m being friendly. You could even try it yourself sometime.”

“I’ll break his kneecaps if you want,” Five says into his mug.

“You adorable psycho trapped in a tiny child’s body, you,” Klaus coos. “Thanks, but I guess I have to decline, though your offer is tempting.”

Five shrugs and takes another sip of his coffee.

“But seriously, why are you here?” Klaus asks, apparently unwilling to drop his line of questioning.

Five eyes the untouched silverware to the right of his mug and then idly eyes the spots on Klaus’ body it would be most satisfying to sink a fork into before grimacing. He’s been in academia too long, he thinks.

“The coffee beans Allison procured are terrible,” Five says, “and if you tell anyone I said that, I will deny it and tell them you said it and are trying to blame it on me.”

Klaus huffs out a laugh and knocks twice on the counter. He mimes zipping his mouth shut. “Your dirty secrrrrret,” he says, rolling the _r_ unnecessarily, “is safe with me.”

“I’ll know if you tell your knitting group,” Five says snidely.

Klaus puts a hand up to his mouth and sighs dramatically. “I would never share your most _secret_ secret with The Dead.”

Five opens his mouth to retort, but Klaus solemnly holds a finger up to stop him. “If you are allowed to call your dissertation The Apocalypse, I am allowed to call my knitting group The Dead.”

Five tilts his head in agreement.

Agnes drops off the bill and his bag of donuts. Klaus painstakingly counts out change from one of his many pockets and leaves her a generous tip. She smiles patiently at him and then scoops the change from the counter.

A loud, surprisingly shrill honk interrupts atmosphere of the quiet donut shop.

Klaus smiles brightly. “Well, that’s my ride. Are you sure you don’t want to come with, Five?”

Five ignores the fact that Klaus never asked him to go with him in the first place. He waffles for a moment, and then asks Agnes, “Can I get one for the road?”

“You better not let Vanya see that,” Klaus laughs. He waves out the window to Diego, who is impatiently drumming his fingers against the steering wheel.

Five lays a crisp five on the counter and accepts his coffee with a salute. “Pleasure doing business with you, Agnes.”

Diego leans on the horn.

Five rolls his eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's this other fic floating around called [luther die challenge](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18146717) by [blessed_image](https://archiveofourown.org/users/blessed_image/pseuds/blessed_image), in which The Apocalypse is the name of Five's choir group, which I just found to be So Delightful. And I was thinking, what other delightful things are there to which we could assign significant plot points to as names? I present you with The Dead (Klaus' knitting group) and The Apocalypse (Five's dissertation).
> 
> That's a fun anecdote, but it's not where this story started. This story started because I needed a happy, ridiculous thing where everyone was alive and there weren't powers and they are still assholes but they have goopy feelings toward each other. _Gross_ , feelings. I'm not sure how many chapters this will be, because I'm honestly not super sure where this is going. Maybe three? I do like a good three-parter. A triptych, if you will. 
> 
> I'm not on tumblr these days, so you'll have to talk to me here, I guess. I will get back to you as soon as possible after my ten year jaunt into the woods where I never look anyone in the face and furiously refresh my statistics page. :)


	2. knitters not quitters

Diego does not take them back to Ben and Klaus’ apartment, which is the complete opposite of what Five expected when he got in the car with them. He thinks he might not have agreed to come with them if he had known. 

When he grouses about this fact, Diego shrugs at him and follows Klaus into the sketchy church. The church itself isn’t sketchy -- quaint, really, if Five had to give it a descriptor -- but the fact that Klaus is willingly entering the church is sketchy enough on its own. 

He leads them past the sanctuary and to a rickety set of stairs that lead into the church’s basement. Five cannot see any good outcome from this. 

His suspicions are confirmed when the stairs give way to a brightly decorated room with a circle of chairs in the middle. 

“If this is an intervention,” Five starts, shooting Diego an affronted look when he jostles him with his elbow. 

“Hey, man,” Diego says. “You got in the car with us willingly.”

“I am beginning to regret it already.”

Klaus swans back around to Diego and Five. “We’re the first ones here. Good. That means I get my pick of the seats.”

He splays his hand out toward the circle of metal folding chairs with a grin and a cackle. He smacks Diego’s chest with the bag of donuts and says, “Give up the goods, big boy.”

Diego rolls his eyes, but trades the backpack he’s slung over his shoulder for the paper bag of donuts. Klaus clutches the backpack to his chest and chooses a seat, seemingly at random. Diego peers inside the bag and must like what he sees because he retires to a bench along the back wall with his prize. 

Five follows him at a slower pace, mystified, and nurses his coffee. 

About five minutes later, other people start to trickle in. Many of them are elderly women, but there are a few others of varying genders and ages who come in too. Everyone finds a seat and starts to pull out yarn of various colors and knitting needs and  _ oh no _ , Five thinks. 

“You did not bring me to Klaus’  _ knitting group _ , did you?” He whispers furiously at Diego. 

Diego smirks. “Welcome to the Knittie Bitties,” he pronounces carefully.

Five shudders violently at the frankly  _ terrible _ pun of a name. His jaw works furiously for a moment before he hisses, “I will gut you.”

Diego laughs at him. “You can try, little man.”

Five squints at him and then around the room at all the little old ladies and various knitters. Klaus still sits in his seat, backpack clutched to his chest, and a manic sort of gleam in his eye. Five wonders what he’s waiting for. Several others have already pulled out various knitted monstrosities are are clacking away with their needles. 

A man who looks like he could be a geography teacher walks in last. He walks straight up to Klaus and says, “You’re in my seat.”

Klaus cackles. “Not today, Leonard. You snooze, you lose. The early bird gets the good chair. Caw, caw, motherfucker.”

“Language!” One of the woman, who is knitting something that looks like a baby blanket, calls out. 

“Oh, quit it, Georgina,” Klaus calls back. “Don’t think I didn’t hear you last week. A sailor would blush!”

Georgina looks up quickly and winks back at him. “I have made many a sailor blush in my time. Oh, sit down, Leonard. There are plenty of other chairs available.”

Leonard does, grumbling the whole way. He keeps shooting Klaus looks that could peel paint off a wall. He pulls out some sort of hideous green scarf … thing and gets to work. 

Five wasn’t aware that Klaus had a knitting  _ nemesis _ . 

“What do you even get out of this?” Five finally asks Diego, mutinous. He slouches down against the wall a bit and tries not to make eye contact with anyone. 

Someone’s grandma walks over to them and greets Diego warmly. He smiles up at her and says, “Hello, Maude. How are the grandkids?”

“Trouble!” Maude says fiercely. Then she looks from side to side and says slyly, “It’s hilarious. My son's just desserts. Who’s this?”

Diego doesn’t touch him, which Five is infinitely grateful for, but he does lean closer to him. “This is our brother, Five.”

Five does not smile exactly, but he doesn’t also  _ not  _ smile. He is struck, suddenly, with the feeling that this woman is important to Diego, though Five doesn’t know  _ why _ or  _ how _ . 

“Well, now,” Maude says, straightening up and putting a hand on her hip. “How many siblings did you say you had, Diego?”

“Six,” he replies back dutifully. 

“Six! And I’ve met,” she counts on her fingers, muttering a little bit to herself, “five of you now.”

Maude darts a look over at Five and he bristles a little bit, but doesn’t say anything. 

“I’ll have to start making more,” she finally says. “Klaus and this one could use a little more meat on their bones. How’s Vanya?”

Five tunes out their conversation and focuses back on Klaus. Klaus smirks over in Leonard’s direction every so often and unearths his project from his backpack. The yarn is a mishmash of blues, browns, and purples, flecked with dots of color, and he’s got way more knitting needles in his hands than Five even thought was possible. 

He watches, enraptured, for a moment. 

It’s not that Five underestimates his brother, it’s just that Klaus never seems to want  _ more _ for himself. Klaus is quite content to be where he is at any given moment, and Five doesn’t really understand not having a drive to do anything else

Klaus works part-time at Vanya’s coffee shop, sometimes reads tarot cards for people unlucky enough to turn to that, and has biweekly meetings with a knitting club. 

Five curls in on himself a little bit and thinks, weakly, that it’s infinitely better than the drugs. He shouldn’t be so hard on Klaus. Sobriety has been hard enough for Klaus. 

A dull jangle interrupts his thoughts. Five raises an eyebrow at Diego, who shakes the metal tin at him again. He cracks the lid when he has Five’s full attention and Five cautiously peers inside. 

Cookies. It’s cookies. It's  _so many_ cookies.

Diego has a self-satisfied smirk on his face. “Twice a week,” he says, “all the cookies I can eat.”

Diego graciously shares his bounties with Five, while Klaus knits and talks trash with the ladies and gentlemen of the Knittie Bitties for the next forty-five minutes. 

A morbid thought occurs to Five as they’re getting into the car to leave and he voices it with the usual amount of tact -- that is to say, little to none. “Isn’t it a little morbid to call your knitting group The Dead?”

Klaus is very close to Five’s face all of the sudden and his eyes shine in a way that makes Five a little uncomfortable. “Don’t you speak ill of them,” he shrieks, before clamoring into the backseat. 

Klaus is still kind of muttering to himself as Five takes the passenger’s seat. Diego throws a cookie back at him and the rude words tumbling out of Klaus’ mouth devolve into grumbling. 

“Sorry I asked,” Five mutters, and then before he forgets, he asks, “Hey, will you drop me off at Vanya’s?”

Diego shrugs, and ominously intones, "We'll see."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look, if you came here expecting anything less than self-indulgent goop, you are in the wrong place. At the very least, I tried to make it _slightly longer_ self-indulgent goop. 
> 
> So! We meet Klaus' knitting group and the tiniest sliver of plot begins to form, although it is the tiniest, tiniest thread. This is what I get for going in without a concrete idea. 
> 
> [This](https://www.etsy.com/listing/485455189/donegal-fingering-100g-438-yd-variegated?ref=shop_home_active_9) is the yarn color I was picturing when I wrote this. It's so beautiful, homg. 
> 
> It was kind of bumming me out that I didn't have a social media account to share with y'all and since I'm probably not going back to tumblr any time soon, I made a public twitter just for teasing snippets from my fics and talking with other people. You can find me [@afuturetime](https://twitter.com/afuturetime). Ten points if you can guess my username reference. :')


	3. just brew it

Cafe Delores sits in a bustling section of the city, bookended by a popular independent bookstore and a busy music shop. The location isn’t too far from the university, so the cafe sees a lot of harried students in addition to the business men and women who frequent the establishment.

It’s the perfect spot for a coffee shop, Five thinks as Diego pulls the car smoothly to a stop in front. It’s really the perfect coffee shop, even if Vanya humors their siblings by using “artisan” coffee beans and ruins Five’s life by naming her shop after his _childhood imaginary friend._

If any of his other siblings had tried it, Five would have broken the fingers on one of their hands. But this is Vanya and Five -- well, Five has never been one to deny Vanya anything. Vanya always lights up when she talks about her shop and Five is so glad that she finally has the chance to step out of the shadow of their childhood.

Klaus all but falls out of the backseat of the car in a rush of gangling limbs and cookie crumbs. Diego shuts the door behind him and only swears about it a little bit, which is how Five knows he’s still feeling overly indulgent of Klaus’ antics. Five moves at a slower pace and shuts his own door because he is an _adult_.

Or, at least, more of an adult than Klaus is. A young adult. A thirteen year old, _whatever_. Between the two of them, one of them has a college degree and it is not Klaus.

Vanya smiles in their direction when they enter. She finishes ringing up her customer and starts making the ordered drink. Klaus gravitates closer to her.

“How was knitting?” She asks over the coffee maker.

“Delightful as always, truly,” he answers. “We tricked Five into coming and it was,” he stops to mime a chef’s kiss.

Five frowns in their direction. He doesn’t appreciate being made to be social. He has things to do. Really important things, too, like working on his thesis. His fingers itch for his laptop. He thinks it might be at Ben and Klaus’ apartment. He figures he can walk or call an Uber.

His whole body twitches.

Diego pulls him down to sit at what has become the Hargreeves’ table. “Nope,” he says, popping the _p_ meanly. “Ben says you’re on a mandatory break until you become a little less hostile.”

“Ben isn’t even here,” Five says petulantly. “Ben can’t tell me what to do.”

“Ben sees all,” Klaus intones ominously from across the coffee shop.

Five pushes himself up with his hands onto the table. One of his knees rests in his chair and he scrabbles to get the other one up on the table too. “Well, he wouldn’t if you didn’t text him all the time. You two are more codependent than--”

Diego pushes him back into his seat with a hand on his forehead. Five may snarl at him a little bit; it’s hard to tell through the white-hot rage he’s experiencing.

“Try to act a little less like a feral child, dude,” he says. “I know you know your manners.”

Five throws himself into his chair with a huff and crossed arms. “I want you to know I despise you all.”

Klaus sits at the table next to Diego and kicks his feet against Five’s shins. “Oops, sorry,” he says, not at all apologetic.

Diego smirks at Five. Klaus fires off another text, probably to Ben -- the big weirdo.

“Ben says if you don’t get your act together, we’re to leave you with Luther.”

“No, he doesn’t, give me that phone--” Five says, reaching over the table to grab Klaus’ hands as he texts furiously on the phone. Klaus leans back in his chair and lifts his arms like some sort of spindly sea creature.

Five sinks back into his chair and seethes.

When Vanya appears at the table, it’s with her coat. “You’re up, Klaus. I’ve got lessons until four and then we’re meeting Allison for dinner.”

Klaus leans into her hand when she rests it on his head. Five would compare him to a particularly mangy cat, except the last time he said something like that out loud, his siblings had decided to give them all animal personas and it had gone well for exactly no one. Five is not one of those tiny owls, thank you very much.

“Okay, my dearest sister. The stars in my sky,” Klaus purrs. “Have I ever told you how you light up my life?”

“No, Dave hasn’t come in yet today,” Vanya laughs. “Don’t ogle him too hard and forget to take his order again.”

Klaus curls up on himself like a roly poly. “That was _one_ time. I take it back, Allison is my favorite sister.”

Vanya pats him on the head. “Allison is everyone’s favorite sister. I really have to go now. Keys are in the back. Lock up at closing, please.”

Klaus lazily salutes her. “Diego, you staying?”

“I’m your ride, dumbass,” Diego says.

Klaus grins. “Oh, right. Magnificent. Five?”

Five’s sharp gaze darts between Diego and Klaus and then to his sister. “Can I come with you instead?”

Vanya looks surprised for a half a second. She equivocates for a second and then shrugs, “Sure, as long as you don’t scare off any of my students.”

“I would never,” Five says, and doesn’t appreciate the way Diego snorts and Klaus start laughing. He squints at them. How are they even related? Oh, right, that would be the adoptions. Yikes.

“Are you ready to go, Vanya?” Five asks primly, and tenses a little bit when she loops her arm in his for affirmation. Five only leans a little closer to her as they exit Cafe Delores.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Three chapters in and we finally see the coffee shop in this coffee shop AU. I will expect no criticism on the name, because I think it is _hilarious_.
> 
> If Five were a tiny, angry owl, it would be this [one](https://pbs.twimg.com/profile_images/486497731666776064/us-e3r5I_400x400.jpeg).
> 
> Follow me on Twitter at [@afuturetime](https://twitter.com/afuturetime) for updates and quality anecdotes on the fic, my burgeoning cheese addiction, and fun conversation. :')


	4. classical!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Make sure to click the "Show Creator's Style" button!

Five has always enjoyed hearing Vanya play the violin.

Her students, on the other hand -- not so much.

He winces as her current student, a waifish girl of maybe eleven, screeches through another note. Vanya, he notes, also winces, but she’s more subtle about it. She smiles gently at the girl and shows her the correct position to hold the bow again.

Five wonders where her patience comes from. Certainly not from the house they grew up in, which excelled at squashing anything that looked particularly soft. Five curls up in his chair and tries not to think about the house or Sir Reginald Hargreeves.

Instead, Five tries to think about the good things in his life, like Vanya and her dumb coffee shop, like Ben and Klaus, like Allison and his niece Claire, like Diego and -- _God_ \-- even his oafish brother Luther. Sir Reginald Hargreeves tried to chew them up and spit them out, but somehow, miraculously, they escaped.

Five thinks about Grace -- no, _Mom_ \-- and feels something tighten in his chest. He wonders if she’s coming to dinner tonight. He didn’t think to ask earlier. Maybe he’ll ask Vanya between students.

The girl screeches through another few notes, but Five thinks maybe she’s improving. He wouldn’t really know one way or the other, but something about it sounds less harsh.

Thinking about Mom is … difficult. Sir Reginald Hargreeves was a cruel man, not only to his children but to his wife. Five was exceedingly glad when he finally kicked the bucket. It was like he could finally breathe. He knows his siblings felt the same

Mom did not come out unscathed. As it turns out, when your husband smacks you around too often, it can leave … damage.

Grace Hargreeves loves her children.

Still, Five lives with Vanya now.

It’s complicated.

Mr. Pogo, a dear friend of Grace’s, stepped in to help take care of Grace after Sir Reginald Hargreeves’ death when it became readily apparent that Grace was having trouble adjusting to her new life. She seemed lost. She forgot things, like turning off the stove after cooking or picking Five up from school.

The doctors said things like _post-concussive syndrome_ and _traumatic brain injury._

What it meant for Five was that he couldn’t live with her anymore.

Five curls tighter in his seat. His forehead rests against his knees. He sees Grace often, but it isn’t the same.

Five feels a hand on his head before he realizes that Vanya’s student has left the room. He hadn’t realized her lesson was already over.

“You okay?” Vanya asks.

Five shakes his head. “Mom,” he says, by way of explanation.

Vanya crouches down beside him and nods in understanding. “One more lesson,” she says, “and then we can go to dinner. She’ll be there.”

“Okay,” Five says thickly.

Vanya ruffles his hair even as Five tries to dodge her. He grimaces at her. She smiles and pops in quick to press a kiss to his forehead.

“Gross,” Five says, making a face. “Get off of me, yuck.”

Vanya tosses him her phone. “Here, text Ben and remind him about dinner for me.”

“I’m not your personal assistant,” Five says mulishly. He takes the phone from her regardless.

Vanya just smiles at him and turns to ready the room for the next student.

Five rifles through her text messages just because, but Vanya is exceedingly boring. There’s the sibling group chat, a text thread with Klaus that seems to be just incredibly niche GIFs about coffee, a text thread with _him_ where she badgers him about his sleeping habits and caffeine intake, and a few spam texts.

He opens up a new message to Ben.    

Ben  
  
vanya says you can't forget about dinner  
  
does vanya know you have her phone, 5?  
  
actually, where's your phone? did you lose it again  
  
NO it's in my pocket

Five fumbles his own phone out of his pocket and shoots off another text.     

Ben  
  
see, you monumental jerk  
  
dinner  
  
dinner  
  
yes, i know!!! at 5 at allison's  
  
stop sending texts that just say dinner  
  
dinner  
  
dinner

Five is interrupted in his spam of Ben’s phone by a man’s familiar voice.

“I’m guessing I look different than your usual students,” the man says.

Five uncurls enough to get a good look at the man. He frowns. Something about this man is familiar.

“But the ad didn’t say anything about age limits,” the man continues.

“No, no, of course not.” Vanya says. “It’s just that most of my students are kids."

“I’m Leonard,” the man says, holding out a hand.

Vanya shakes it. “I’m Vanya. I’ll be your, uh, your music teacher.”

Five narrows his eyes. It’s that guy from Klaus’ knitting group, the one who wouldn’t stop glaring at Klaus the entire time.

Leonard’s expression falters just a bit when he sees Five in the corner, but he clearly regroups and shoots a smile back at Vanya.

“I brought my own violin,” Leonard says, hefting the case. “Did you know you could rent them from this music shop? Mind blown.”

Vanya laughs. “Yes, I did know that.”

“Oh, right, sure,” Leonard says. “Because you work here, right?”

“No,” Vanya says. “I just teach lessons here.”

Leonard nods. “That’s really cool."

“Yeah, it is.” Vanya motions to her own violin. “Well, if you get yours out, we can cover over positioning and get you started on a song.”

Leonard nods his head again. “Sounds good,” he agrees, and sets upon getting out his instrument.

Five doesn’t like him at all. 

Leonard looks unassuming, but there’s something that sets every alarm bell ringing in Five’s head. Five hadn’t gotten a good look at him in the church basement, because he’d been too concerned with _not making eye contact_ with anyone, but now that Five can get a good look at him, he doesn’t like what he sees.

Five shoots another suspicious look his way and then sends off another text.    

Klaus  
  
hey klaus  
  
what up  
  
what's the deal with that angry geography teacher in your knitting group  
  
MMMMM ugh leonard  
  
idk man he just doesn't like me for some reason  
  
not sure what i ever did 2 him  
  
why are you asking

Five doesn’t bother replying. He opens up a game on Vanya’s phone and starts playing as the lesson progresses and Leonard crunches through _Frère Jacques_.

Not quickly enough, the lesson comes to an end. Five sighs in relief.

Vanya places her violin in its care and smiles at Leonard. “That’s coming along,” she says kindly.

“You don’t have to lie,” Leonard laughs. “Do you think it’s weird that I want to learn violin this late in life?”

Vanya shakes her head. “No, not if you love music. If you love music, you’ve made the right decision.”

“Well, I hope so.”

“I’ll see you next week,” Vanya says. “Keep practicing the bow hold.”

“Yeah, of course,” Leonard says. “Look, um, I’m a woodworker. I have a shop in Bricktown. You should come check it out sometime."

 _Nope,_ Five thinks. He stands up out of his chair and says, “Vanya, we’re going to be late for dinner."

Vanya turns toward him, checking the clock on the wall to verify, “Oh, you’re right.”

From behind Vanya, Leonard shoots him a venomous look. Five pastes on his best ‘innocent child’ expression.

“I’m hungry,” Five says sweetly.

“Well, we can’t have that,” Vanya replies. “I’m sorry Leonard, we’re going to have to go. Next week?”

“Next week,” he says, the edge of his voice rough.

“Get your stuff, Five. Do you have my phone?”

Five follows Vanya out of the room, keeping a sharp eye on Leonard. As soon as Vanya’s out of Leonard’s line of sight, Five raises his middle finger in salute.

It’s totally worth it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoops, I got some sad in my story. :( How did you like the text messages, though? I muddled my way through [this tutorial](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6434845?style=creator) this morning and I think it turned out pretty neat. 
> 
> Also, how foolish was I to think that this story would only be three chapters long? I know you all are truly devastated that my earlier predictions turned out to be inaccurate. So, so devastated. 
> 
> Now for a bit of audience participation! If you have any delightful coffee, knitting, or violin puns, be sure to share them with me in the comments! I made a boo-boo when I decided to make all the chapter titles puns. :') Even if you don't have any puns to share, I appreciate any and all comments. I am slowly getting over my need to become a lumberjack every time I get a nice comment. 
> 
> For more behind-the-scenes content, make sure to follow me on Twitter at [@afuturetime](http://www.twitter.com/afuturetime).


	5. just beet it, beet it

Allison lives in a charming two story townhouse in the suburbs of the city. There are potted plants lining the porch, kids toys strewn about the lawn, and a perfect shady tree in the front yard. It's so perfectly Allison that it's a little sickening. 

Unlike Ben and Klaus’ apartment, it’s far enough away from Vanya’s place that they have to meet up with Diego and Klaus at the coffee shop so they can catch a ride with them.

Ben and Luther are already at the house when they arrive. Ben bumps fists with Klaus as soon as he falls out of the car in his haste to greet Ben, which is par for the course and just furthers Five’s theory about their codependency.

Luther shuffles closer to Klaus and clumsily apologizes for what he said to Klaus earlier in the day. Klaus takes it with his usually aplomb, swooning just enough that Luther has to catch him before he brains himself on Allison’s sidewalk.

Little feet in flip flops smack against the sidewalk as Claire all but throws herself out of the house and runs out to say hello. “Auntie Vanya! Auntie Vanya!”

Vanya catches the little girl as she all but slams into her midsection. “Oomph,” she says, and then, “Hello, Claire.”

Claire grins up at her and then detaches and makes the rounds, saying hello to Luther with a hug that sends him stumbling back and to Diego, who she tries to climb like a tree.

He takes her scrabbling up to his shoulders with grace, hitching her up when she starts to slip. She leans down over his face, upside down, and says, “I’m so tall now!”

She points to Ben and Klaus, so Diego dutifully walks over to them. Claire makes grabby hands at Ben, who pulls her off of Diego’s shoulders as best he can without Claire kneeing Diego in the face, and sets her on the ground.

She leans into Ben briefly and then makes grabby hands at Klaus. “I like your shirt,” she says, tugging on Klaus’ tie dye shirt.

Klaus crouches down and says, “Why, thank you, my dear.”

Claire gravely puts her hands on either side of Klaus’ face and squeezes his cheeks. She solemnly asks, “Can I wear your sunglasses?”

Klaus shrugs. “Sure, why not?”

Claire squeals as Klaus slips them off and gently sets them on her face. They’re a little big on her, but her grin is toothy. Five watches as Klaus squints at the bright light of the sun.

Claire finally makes her way to Five and he submits to a hug with a minimal amount of fussing. “Hello, Claire,” he says.

“Check out my sunglasses,” she says, striking a pose.

He nods. “They look very good.”

Five looks up at the front door and sees Allison standing there, smiling indulgently.

“Did you show your mom?” Five asks, knowing very well that she has not.

“Good idea!” Claire says and then shoots off faster than any of them can blink, shouting as she goes, “Mom! Mom! Mom! Look!”

Diego cracks his neck and then sedately says, “Where does all that energy come from?”

Ben says, “Shut up, we’re only thirty. Don’t put us in the grave yet, man.”

Diego shrugs.

Vanya takes the lead and everyone shuffles behind her like baby ducks into Allison’s house.

Allison is in the kitchen, finishing dinner. Five asks, “Where’s Mom?”

Allison points him to the living room and Five nods his thanks.

He turns the corner into the living room and there Grace sits on the couch, idly thumbing through one of Allison’s recent playbills.

She looks up and smiles when she sees Five. “There you are,” she says, and doesn’t comment when he pushes in for a hug. “How’s school?”

“Infuriating,” Five says into her shoulder. “The history department keeps trying to lure me into their program.”

“Oh, well, we can’t have that,” Grace says fondly.

Diego wanders in after Five and leans down to press a kiss to Grace’s forehead after Five disentangles himself. “Hey, Mom,” he greets.

“Diego,” she smiles. “How are you? Are you sleeping enough?”

“Fine, yes,” he answers in succession. “How are you?”

Grace looks wistful for a moment and then smiles again. “I’m doing well.”

“Is Pogo not here?” Diego asks.

Grace shakes her head. “Luther’s staying with us while he’s here. He’s driving me home.”

“Good,” Diego says. “I’ll come over this weekend.”

“Me too,” Five interjects, looking at Diego for approval. He’s sure one of his siblings would take him over to Mom’s, but if Diego is already going --

“Yeah, Five too,” Diego nods.

“Oh, that sounds wonderful, boys.” Grace gets a faraway look in her eyes and then she turns to Five. “How’s school going?”

Five ducks his head, mumbles, “It’s good.”

Grace squeezes his shoulder and says, “I’m glad to hear that, baby.”

She picks up the playbill again -- Allison’s currently doing _Heathers_ : _The Musical_ \-- and flips through it again. She sags against Five’s side. “You know I’m proud of you, don’t you?” She asks. “All of you.”

Five leans into her side. Klaus chooses this moment to come into the living room. He flops down on the floor beside Grace and puts his head in her lap.

“Even me?” He asks.

Grace pushes his hair out of his eyes. “ _Especially_ you,” she murmurs.

She runs her hand through his hair a few times more.

“Mmm,” Klaus hums, eyes closed. “Perfect.”

All the siblings dealt with Sir Reginald Hargreeves’ tyranny in different ways. Diego acted out at school, getting into fights with classmates and mouthing off to teachers. Vanya retreated further into herself and her violin. Allison strove to present a picture-perfect presentation of her life, even to the detriment of her health. Luther thought that if he could be the _best_ , their father would love him more. Ben found art and used it as a way to express the complicated feelings he had.  

Klaus, though -- Klaus fell into drugs.

Klaus’ flirtation with insobriety put a strain on their familial relationship. It would have been so, so easy for them to fall apart, but instead, somewhat miraculously, they pulled together.

By the time the Hargreeves welcomed an infant Five into their midst, Klaus was four years into his addiction. Five grew up with a flighty, drug-seeking brother who was, in turns, endlessly doting and always disappearing from Five’s life.

The turning point was, of course, Sir Reginald Hargreeves’ death, when Five was eight. His siblings were in their twenties. After their dear old dad kicked it, the family drew closer together and decided to deal with their shit.

There was a lot of therapy for everyone. So, _so_ much therapy.

Ben ended up taking point with Klaus, dragging him to rehab and then therapy and then Narcotics Anonymous meetings. He moved Klaus into his apartment around the same time that Vanya gained guardianship of Five.

Slowly, Klaus began to make his way to sobriety.

He’s been sober for five years now, Five thinks. _Of course_ Mom would be proud of him. They’re all proud of him.

Allison knocks on the door frame and says, “Dinner’s ready. Come grab a seat.”

Allison’s table is homey, whereas the table in their childhood home was calculated and cold. They all pile around it, because it is big enough for all nine of them with the leaf put in the middle. There are no straight backs to be found at this dinner table, however.

Klaus sits half in his seat and half in Claire’s, whispering something to the little girl that makes her giggle. Ben sits on his other side, followed by Diego and Mom, Five and Vanya, and then Luther and Allison to round it out.

Allison has made lasagna and Vayna keeps trying to shovel more salad onto Five’s plate. He levels her with a cool stare, but she just smiles at him.

Klaus leans across the table for the garlic bread even as Ben swats him in the side. “Ow,” Klaus simpers to Ben, and then to Claire, he says, “I got the goods, we’re golden.”

Claire grabs a piece in each hand in victory.

Mom clinks her fork and knife together as she cuts into her food and smiles down at Five. Dinner is loud. Everyone talks over each other. They laugh. They make plans. 

He ducks his head, smiles down at his lap, and thinks that this is pretty much everything he ever wished for.  
  
Five wrinkles his nose.

 _Gross_ , he thinks.  _Feelings._ He's got to figure out a way to get rid of those. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoa, it's been a hot minute, hasn't it? I started this fic when I was on spring break, but work beckoned me back after my luxurious week-long snooze-and-writing-fest and to be honest, I was a large amount of tired. Also, my dog had to have emergency surgery on Friday, so this weekend has been ten kinds of stressful (spoiler: surgery went well, she's in a cone, we are making it the best we can). 
> 
> So here, have a family dinner. Does it further the plot? Sort of. Does it provide necessary exposition? Maybe. Did I just really want all the siblings to interaction with Allison's daughter Claire? You betcha. Hope you enjoyed it!


	6. just let that shit go

Klaus ambushes Five as he leaves the bathroom. Everyone else is in the living room, chatting and generally unwilling to leave just yet. Klaus pops out from around the corner and Five does _not_ jump in surprise, no matter what Klaus says.

“Fancy meeting you here,” Klaus says, steepling his fingers and peering down his nose at Five.

“What do you want?” Five asks.

Klaus opens his left hand so that his HELLO tattoo is visible. He wriggles his fingers a couple of times and then says, “You never answered my question.”

Five leans back against the wall. “What question,” he says flatly.

“Oh, you know,” Klaus says, “about Leonard. Why were you asking about Leonard?”

_Oh_. Five honestly forgot that he texted Klaus about that. Whoops.

“He started lessons with Vanya today,” Five says. “It was weird that I saw him at your knitting thing and then later with Vanya.”

A sour look crosses Klaus’ face. “He’s bad news.”

Five rolls his eyes. “Well, yes, I know that obviously. Anyone with two eyes can see that he’s terrible.”

“You are the smartest brother I have,” Klaus agrees. He throws an arm around Five’s shoulders and doesn’t let him escape. “I’m not sure why he has it out for me. He joined the group after I did. If he’s so offended by my presence, he can find another knitting group. This one’s mine.”

He holds out his other hand, where GOODBYE is tattooed across the palm.

Five elbows him in the side and escapes from under his arm, but doesn’t actually move away. “He asked Vanya to check out his shop at the end of the lesson. He said he was a woodworker.”

“That’s a little fresh for a first meeting, don’t you think?” Klaus asks. “Weird. I’ll ask Ben if he knows anything about that. You know, like, artist circles or whatever.”

Klaus twirls his hands in the air around each other and then gets distracted by the motion.

“Focus, Klaus.”

“Hm, well, unless he actually does something, it’s just a freaky coincidence,” Klaus says finally. “Don’t go looking for trouble if there’s none to be found.”

“Did your therapist tell you that?” Five asks meanly.

“Yes, actually,” Klaus says, sniffing.

Five almost feels bad, but when he looks up at Klaus, the most shit-eating grin curls across his face.

“You are actually the worst,” Five tells him.

Klaus shrugs.

“Leonard is actually the reason Diego started coming with me,” he says in a singular moment of honesty. “He used to just drop me off and then come back later. It turns out that it’s incredibly hard to not have a good time at your knitting group when your bondage brother is glaring over your shoulder at the person who is being mean to you.”

Five leads them back to the living room. Diego stands at the edge of the room with a glass in his hand and slides a glance over at them.

“You two were gone for a while,” he says casually.

Klaus pats Five on the chest twice and then swans over to Diego. He wraps one long arm around Diego’s shoulders and says, “We were talking about you and your veritable army of old ladies who would go to bat for you.”

Diego rolls his eyes. Then he shrugs and accepts Klaus’ statement as a matter of fact.

Ben sidles up to Five. Five watches him carefully.

“You feeling less angry?”

Five narrows his eyes, unwilling to admit that _maybe_ Ben had been right.

Ben takes it in stride and nods. “Good,” he says. “I’ll give you your laptop back.”

“You are infuriating,” Five says, “and not my  par-- guardian.”

Ben ignores his slip-up and laughs. “Can you imagine if you had to live with me and Klaus?”

Five slides his gaze over to where Diego and Klaus have devolved into some weird wrestling-slap fight. Well, Diego puts Klaus into some sort of hold and Klaus slaps whatever bit of Diego he can reach with his open palms.

Five shudders.

Vanya was the best fit when it came to living with one of his siblings.

Klaus was coming off of drugs and Ben had his hands full with him when the Hargreeves decided a change was necessary for Five. Allison and her ex-husband were about to welcome a new baby -- Claire -- into their lives. Luther and Five got along best when not actually living together, so that was out as well.

Five could have lived with Diego, he supposes, but Diego’s weird work schedule made it less than ideal.

In the end, Vanya was the most stable choice. Five’s glad. He loves his other siblings, of course, but the thought of having to live with them on a daily basis sets his teeth on edge.

He still goes from home to home on a fairly regular schedule, but there’s a routine to it that Vanya sticks to. The consistency is nice. He knows what to expect and when to expect it, and there are as few surprises as possible.

Five doesn’t do well with surprises for the obvious reasons.

It makes his relationship with the history department at the university -- a department he isn’t even a part of -- quite fraught.

Claire runs up to Five and tugs on his shirt. He looks down at the girl and tilts his head.

“Will you color with me?”

Five slants a look at Ben and _dares_ him to say anything. Ben wisely keeps his mouth shut.

Five allows Claire to pull him by the hand to the table where she’s already set out paper and crayons carefully. He sits next to her and she passes him a piece of paper, before grabbing a green crayon and starting to scribble what Five thinks may be grass, if grass started in the middle of the paper.

Considering Claire is four, Five decides to give her a break.

Thirty minutes later, Vanya finds Five explaining time travel to Claire.

“If we take Einstein’s theory of gravity into consideration,” Five explains, “then we can assume that spacetime will curve with the presence of mass.”

Five gently curves a piece of paper around itself. Claire watches in rapt attention.

“That could create a wormhole, which we could potentially use to travel _back_ in time. Travelling forward is the easy part, you know? Getting back to where you want to be is more difficult.”

Five curves another piece of paper around on itself and holds one in each hand. He presses the mouth of each cylinder together. “When two wormholes meet, they could be used to travel back in time. Like a long tunnel,” he says.

Claire whispers, “Wow.”

When she notices Vanya standing behind Five, she grins and says, “Uncle Five is going to travel back in time and get me a pet dinosaur!”

“Is he now?” Vanya asks, smoothing her hand over Claire’s hair. “Where will you keep the dinosaur? I bet it will be too big for your backyard.”

“It’s going to be a small dinosaur,” Claire says matter-of-factly. “One that eats plants! It can have all my vegetables!”

“Sounds like a plan,” Vanya agrees. To Five, she says, “Come on, we gotta talk logistics before we go home.”

Five nods and hands the paper cylinders to Claire. She takes them reverently and gently pushes the openings together like he did. Five crooks a half smile in her direction, then turns and follows Vanya back into the living room.

Diego turns as they enter the living room and asks Five, “You’ve got classes tomorrow, right?”

“One at noon and one at three-thirty,” Five says, nodding.

“You can go to Ben and Klaus’ after class or you can come to the coffee shop,” Vanya says. “I’ve got lessons from two to six, but I should be done by the time you’re out.”

“Either way,” Diego continues, “I can pick you up Saturday morning and we can go to Mom’s. I would say you could just come to my place, but I’m working Friday night.”

Five mulls it over in his head. “Could I go to Ben and Klaus’ for a little bit and then meet you back at home?”

Vanya nods. “Yeah, of course. You’ll have to pick him up at the coffee shop, though, Diego.”

“That works,” Diego nods.

“Before you leave,” Allison says, “make sure you all take some leftovers. I made way too much lasagna for us to ever finish.”

Klaus already has a container of lasagna clutched in his hands. “Like I’d ever say no to leftover lasagna.”

He bestows a quick kiss to Allison’s cheek since his hands are full and says, “Lovely dinner as always. Same time next week?”

“Duh,” Allison grins. “Don’t forget, you’re supposed to come to Claire’s recital next Wednesday.”

“I am truly shocked that you would slander me in such a way,” Klaus says. “Of course I will be there, with bells on and everything.”

Luther holds out Mom’s jacket for her and she carefully slips it on. Five slides in for another hug as soon as she’s done. “I’ll see you Saturday?”

“Of course, darling,” she says, hugging him tightly. “I’ll make pancakes. Those are your favorite.”

“Yeah,” Five says. “Yeah, they are.”

“Your laptop is in Diego’s trunk,” Ben says.

Five slowly turns a hairy eyeball in Ben’s direction. “Are you implying what I think you are?”

“If you mean, has it been in his trunk this entire time, then yeah,” Ben laughs.

“I will murder you in your sleep,” Five promises darkly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why, hello there. A whole 'nother chapter, huh? What did you do to be so lucky? Remember when I said this would be, like, three chapters max? Fun times.
> 
> Please do not think that I know what I'm talking about when I write about time travel. I read three articles max and then shoved what I learned into Five's mouth. Please suspend your disbelief!
> 
> Come follow me on Twitter at [@afuturetime](http://www.twitter.com/afuturetime)!


	7. grad school is for people who hate themselves

 

Klaus  
  
i talked to ben  
  
he agrees that leonard is bad news  
  
BUT he also says we can't jump 2 conclusions just bc he wants to learn an instrument  
  
shut up i'm in class  
  
also i can distrust whoever i want  
  
rock on, you little weirdo  
  
do u want blue or chocolate sprinkles on ur cuppy cake  
  
...  
  
both  
  
you are a delight, truly

The professor of his noon class asks Five a question. Five runs the calculations in his head and offers the answer. It’s correct, of course, and the professor continues her lecture.

His classmates have stopped being dazzled by the fact that at thirteen year-old kid can do complex equations in his head, which is a relief. The jealousy he can handle. The trying to use him as a party trick, less so.

College is kind of a weird place, especially for a teenager.

Class goes by as it always does - mostly rehashing things Five already knows with a bit of a challenge thrown in at the last five minutes. He is starting to suspect that the challenges are thrown in just for him.

Once the professor dismisses them, Five resolves to find a quiet place in the science building to eat his lunch.

He finds an empty alcove tucked away and digs in his bag for his lunchbox. The lunchbox thing was Vanya’s idea and he’d hated to dash her dreams by telling her he could just eat in the campus dining hall.

It’s come in handy, though, since he started grad school and lost his meal plan.

It’s turned into this whole thing with his family; his siblings rotate on who makes his lunch depending on who he’s been with most recently

Usually it’s Vanya, but today’s lunch seems to be courtesy of Klaus, if the cucumber sandwiches shaped with a cookie cutter have anything to say about it. Klaus has also thrown four skewers laced with cherry tomatoes, mozzarella cheese, and basil leaves and what looks like a tiny container of balsamic vinegar because he’s extra and has maybe been spending too much time on Pinterest lately. There’s a plastic container full of roasted almonds, a recyclable bag of red grapes, and, randomly, a whole head of romaine lettuce.

Five decides to give him the benefit of the doubt and assume he got distracted while making it. He can still give him shit about it, though. He takes a picture of the skinny head of lettuce and sends it to Klaus. 

Klaus  
  
what the fuck is this  
  
oh! i was wondering where that scampered off to!!  
  
please bring it home unless you're feeling a bit peckish during ur afternoon class  
  
in which case, you may nibble around the edges like the sweet bun u are  
  
i am going to feed you your innards, klaus  
  
tonight  
  
we f e a s t

What a fucking weirdo, Five thinks fondly, as he digs into his cat-head shaped cucumber sandwiches. They are really good, though.

Allison tends to send him with whatever iteration of meal she’s made for Claire, which is a little maddening because Claire is _four_ and Five is not a toddler. Luther has an unhealthy fixation on applesauce pouches. Diego seems to think that Five needs more protein in his life and tries to load him up with things like hard boiled eggs and peanut butter. Ben always sends soup in a jaunty little thermos. Vanya sends _normal_ things, like sandwiches and sweet things leftover from the coffee shop.

Klaus always oscillates wildly between picture-perfect Instagram lunches and just handing him a ten dollar bill and saying, “Go nuts.”

Wild. Five usually buys a lot of coffee on those days.

Five’s enjoying his lunch and sniping back and forth with Klaus over text when two twin shadows fall across him.

Five goes still. He flicks his gaze upward and then grimaces at who he finds. “Hazel,” he says. “Cha-Cha.”

“Five,” Hazel says. Cha-Cha slides her gaze over to Hazel and then back to Five.

“To what do I owe the,” he scoffs a little bit, unable to help himself, “pleasure?”

Cha-Cha rolls her eyes. She doesn’t really like him, which makes this entire situation really weird. Well, weirder than it already is.

“We are here to invite you to our session, _Time Travel: An Historical Perspective_ , at the conference the department is hosting next Saturday,” Hazel says, oddly formal. “I thought you might be interested in it.”

 _Hm_ , Five thinks. It does sound interesting, which is immediately infuriating. “Email me the details,” he says. “If nothing better comes up, I’ll consider it. Now, if you’ll excuse me?”

He waits for them to leave so he can get back to his interrupted lunch. They don’t move quickly enough for him, so he makes a _shoo_ gesture with his hands and says, “That means you leave now.”

Cha-Cha’s hand tightens into a fist and she jerks forward minutely before smiling insincerely and turning on her heel.

“Goodbye,” Hazel says stiffly.

“Yeah,” Five drawls. He takes another bite of his cucumber sandwich and mumbles through the mouthful, “Good riddance.”

Five makes it through his last class of the day with all the grace of any other tired grad student. It’s starting to get dark outside, so he waits in the science building for Ben to pick him up.

He could totally walk to Ben and Klaus’ apartment from here and generally does when it’s light outside, but Ben offered to pick him up last night because Diego gets extraordinarily twitchy when Five walks alone at night.

It’s a concession Five yields to, however unwillingly, because Diego is typically cool with everything else.

When Ben texts him that he’s there, Five hops down the steps in front of the building two at a time and slides into the passenger’s seat of Ben’s car.

Ben wears a dark jacket and has paint on his chin

“You got a little something there,” Five says in greeting.

Ben laughs and tilts his face up so he can see in the rear view mirror. “I’ve been in the studio all day.”

The “studio” is the tiny office in their apartment. Sometimes Ben shuts himself up in there for hours, painting writhing tentacles tearing themselves from supple stomachs and the dark purple curves of tumultuous ocean waves.

Five’s favorite of Ben’s paintings is of some sort of lumbering giant walking through a desolate field enshrouded in fog. All you can make out of the monster is a faint outline of its girth and its glowing golden eyes next to a forgotten silo. It’s eerie, and completely at odds with Ben’s outward personality.

“Klaus packed me a head of lettuce for lunch,” Five says.”You should definitely say something to him about that.”

“What the fuck,” Ben laughs. “Just a head of lettuce?”

Five doesn’t answer. He just lets Ben assume so, because it will be ten times more hilarious when they get home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter title is not a pun, it's just a fact. I should know; I am in grad school and I do, in fact, hate myself for it. (I'm mostly kidding.)
> 
> Sorry for the long wait, folks! Unfortunately, I came down with a particularly vicious iteration of the stomach flu on Tuesday and have been down for the count since then. What can I say? When I get sick, I go hard. 
> 
> What's this? Is it another plot line developing? Is this starting to develop into a _real_ story? I know, I'm just as surprised as you are. 
> 
> If you are not following me on [Twitter](http://www.twitter.com/afuturetime), you are missing out on some quality liveblogging, salty opinions, and writing updates. Come talk to me. :')


	8. the cards don't lie

The thing about having six siblings is that there’s always one where you least expect it.

Case in point: when Ben and Five get to the apartment, a bemused Luther sits on the couch. Klaus sits on the other side of the coffee table, tarot cards spread out in front of him and an intense look on his face.

Luther looks a little bit afraid, but he’s giving a good go at trying not to be. His eyes are a little too wide.

“Don’t scare him too badly,” Ben says as he drops his keys on the table.

Ben disappears into the apartment and Five sets his stuff down before joining Luther in the scant amount of space he’s left on the sofa.

He stares down at the cards and then up at Luther and asks, “Has he predicted your death yet? The end of the world?”

Klaus makes a noise in the back of his throat and pokes a card. “While that would be befitting someone as cruel as Luther,” he says, clearly still stung by Luther’s earlier words, “no. Don’t worry, Five, I’ll read for you next."

“Oh no,” Five says dryly. “I already know what my future looks like: death, destruction, dissertation.”

“In that order?” Klaus says, not really paying attention.

“Exactly that order.”

Klaus hums under his breath and then pulls another card from the deck to add to the nonsensical spread. It’s the Moon. “Interesting,” he says.

“Why is that interesting?” Luther asks, a thread of frantic energy in his voice.

“You need to reconnect with your … childhood? Ugh, yuck, why would any of us want to do that? Our childhood was terrible,” Klaus says, more to himself than either of them. “You need to reconnect with your childhood and let go of any anxieties that are holding you back. Don’t rush into making decisions, either. Like, what if you go to the moon, huh, and then it blows up!”

Five notes that Klaus isn’t really asking Luther a question. The fingertips of one hand have gone up to tap at his lips, which are pressed tightly together.

Luther takes a moment to gather his thoughts and then says, “Is that the real reason you’re mad at me? You know I won’t actually be on the moon, right?”

“That doesn’t matter!” Klaus says shrilly. “If you are _near_ the moon and it blows up, you are still dead.”

“If the moon blows up,” Luther says slowly, “we are all dead, so it doesn’t even really matter.”

“That’s not the point!” Klaus’ voice kicks up another octave.

Five rubs at his ear. Klaus flicks a random card at Luther and the corner of it bounces off his shoulder. Five picks it up. It’s the Nine of Wands, but upside down. Five doesn’t know what that means, nor does he care to. He hands it back to Klaus.

Klaus gives it a very cursory look and then shoves it back into the middle of the deck. He’s got an incredibly squirrelly look on his face.

“Listen,” Luther says, hands up in a placating manner, “I will be at the International Space Station for six months. We can email or video chat, if you want. It will be fine. I will be completing important research while I am there.”

“You are not allowed to die,” Klaus hisses. “If, or when, we die, we’re going out in a blaze of glory together or not at all. Maybe a murder-suicide. We’ll all drink the Kool-Aid. You are not allowed to mess this up for me by dying _alone_ in space.”

Klaus is probably kidding about the murder-suicide thing. It’s kind of hard to tell. He wasn’t kidding when he said their childhood was terrible.

“Hey, Klaus,” Five interrupts. “I meant to ask you before, but I forgot. Why do you call your knitting group ‘The Dead’?”

This stalls Klaus a bit. He falls back onto his butt and crosses his legs. He doesn’t answer at first or look at either of them, instead pulling out three more cards and placing them atop other cards in the spread in front of him: the Nine of Swords, the Three of Pentacles, and the Magician.

Klaus frowns down at the cards and pokes at them a bit. “My therapist,” he finally starts, “said I needed to replace the memories I associated with the dead with something happier. The Knittie Bitties make me happy.”

Luther frowns like he does when presented with any bad memory from their childhood. Five almost regrets bringing it up, but someone had to put a stop to Klaus’ latest spiral.

Sir Reginald devised ways to make sure each of his adopted children felt appropriately awful and downtrodden, as if the yelling and strict scheduling and beating their mother wasn’t enough. For instance, he used to make Five run and run and run until he puked, sometimes because he answered a math question incorrectly and other times, just because he felt like being nasty. One especially heinous time, Sir Reginald held him up to an open window and then asked Five if he thought he might survive the drop.

Sir Reginald locked Klaus into the mausoleum on their childhood estate for hours for any perceived slight. He’d taunt Klaus by saying, “Are you still afraid of the dead, Number Four?” and force him to stay in the crypt until the early hours of the morning.

Terrible is an understatement for their childhood, honestly.

“Why don’t you put your cards up,” Luther says gently, “and let me hug you, okay?”

Klaus pulls another card - The Queen of Swords - in defiance and then gathers up all his cards back into a stack. Luther stands up and meets him halfway and wraps his big arms around Klaus’ waifish frame.

Five slides into the open space on the couch while they hug it out.

“It’s going to be okay,” Luther says into Klaus’ hair. “I promise.”

“You don’t know that,” Klaus snarls into his shoulder. “You can’t promise that.”

“Maybe I won’t even like space,” Luther says.

“Don’t be dumb,” Klaus says. “You’re going to love stupid space and then you’re going to want to spend all your time up there. I already hate it. I’ll fight the moon for you.”

“Thank you,” Luther says somberly. “I appreciate that.”

“Good,” Klaus says, his hands curling into Luther’s jacket.

Ben comes back into the room, paint scrubbed off his face, and says, “Oh, are we hugging?”

He envelopes Klaus on his other side and prolongs the hug for at least a minute too long. “Are you done being sad?

Klaus disentangles himself and turns away from the group, rubbing furiously at his eyes. “You can’t tell me what to do,” he spits, “but for your information, yes. Yes, I am done.”

“Good,” Ben says agreeably. “If we hurry, we can get dinner before we drop Five off with Vanya.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, friends! Here's a lil chapter about FEEEEEELINGS. 
> 
> Here are some extra tarot notes so you're in on the jokes:  
> 1\. If you read tarot, you know first hand that the cards will call you out bluntly. That's what the cards are doing here. The Moon is pretty much the last card that Klaus reads for Luther and then they switch tack and are all meant for Klaus.  
> 2\. The Nine of Wands reversed, which Klaus throws at Luther, is basically the paranoia card. It's mirroring how he acts in that moment. That's why he shoves it back into the deck. He's fully aware that it's calling him out and he doesn't want to deal with it.  
> 3\. When he pulls the three cards after Five asks him the question about The Dead, he gets the Nine of Swords, the Three of Pentacles, and the Magician. That's basically "team work makes the dream work." Nine of Swords represents fears and anxieties that keep you up at night and what holds you back. Three of Pentacles is the teamwork card. It's very much about equal collaboration. The Magician is a call to action. It's definitely a "this is you now, but if you work together this is what you can have" spread.  
> 4\. The last card he pulls, the Queen of Swords, is my favvvvvorite card ever. It's telling him to cut the bullshit and communicate directly, which he kind of does at the end there with Luther.  
> 5\. I used [this card generator](https://serennu.com/tarot/onecard.php) to pick the cards. Interpretations are my own, haha. :') Prosper, be merry.


	9. y'all i can't think of a pun this week

The next morning sees Five waiting for Diego at Cafe Delores, swinging his feet back and forth from his perch on a stool at the bar, coffee in one hand and a pastry with some sort of delightful cherry jam in the middle in the other. 

Vanya gets all of her pastries and baked goods from the Cho Family Bakery. The Cho patriarch brings their deliveries early in the morning, but lately Helen has been tagging  along too. 

Vanya and Helen chat about the orchestra as Mr. Cho brings in the very last box of sweets. Five sips his hot coffee carefully. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Vanya says to Mr. Cho and he grins as he nods. “You too?”

“Yes,” Helen says. She blushes and waves as she scurries out. 

A sweet smile curves along Vanya’s face. Five takes another bite of the cherry pastry. He squints at Vanya as she starts to set out the pastries into the display. 

“What are you doing today?” 

Vanya hums as she thinks. “I’m here until Klaus comes at three. Then I have lessons until six.”

“After that?”

“I’m all yours,” she says. “You want to go out for dinner tonight?”

Five nods resolutely. He licks the last of the jam off his fingers and says, “We can try that Italian place you’ve been eyeing.”

“And we can go to that bookstore  _ you’ve _ been eyeing,” Vanya says smugly. 

Five eyes her over the lip of his cup. “Well, that works out perfectly then.”

Vanya laughs. She putters around the cafe for a little bit and Five sits contently for a moment before he pulls out his laptop and starts tinkering with his latest assignment. When Vanya’s phone alarm rings, she goes to the front of the shop and flips the sign to ‘open.’

The first of her regulars start to trickle in soon after. Five scoots down to the end of the counter and continues working on his assignment. He keeps half an ear out on what goes on around him, because he always does, but doesn’t try and engage with either Vanya or her customers. 

He figures this is why he misses Leonard coming into the cafe at first. By the time he tunes back in, Leonard has ordered some sort of drink with whipped cream and is talking to Vanya as she gets out orders for other customers. There’s a slight furrow to Vanya’s brow, which Five knows means she’s trying to be polite even as she’s busy. 

Five curses under his breath and shuts his laptop. He leaves it at his seat to save his spot and then jumps off his stool and inserts himself into the space between Leonard and the cash register. Five smiles the type of smile that only extends his cheeks and doesn’t reach his eyes at all and says, “Hey, mister, you’re in Klaus’ knitting group, aren’t you?”

Leonard watches him for a moment, stare like steel, and then darts his gaze up to Vanya before melting his stance into something more approachable. He clearly hasn’t forgotten about Five flipping him off, then. Good. 

“Uh, yeah,” Leonard says jovially, and then tries to talk to Vanya again. “This is a real nice space you’ve got-”

Five interrupts him

“How long have you been going there?” Five asks. He doesn’t miss the grateful look Vanya shoots him as she darts back behind the coffee makers. 

“A couple months,” Leonard says. “Oh, yeah, I remember you. You were there with Klaus and Diego.”

Five hums thoughtfully under his breath. “Yep,” he says, his voice dripping with insincerity. “And then you had a lesson with my sister. It was real odd seeing you twice in one day.”

“That’s your sister?” Leonard says, nodding to Vanya. He glosses over the second half of Five’s statement. 

“That’s what I said, isn’t it?”

“You’re what? In middle school? How’s that for a gap in age?” 

Five’s smile turns brittle. “Grad school, actually.”

“Oh,” Leonard falters. “You don’t look old enough to be in grad school.”

“I guess not,” Five says. “Leave my sister alone. She’s working.”

“Hey, it’s not like that,” Leonard says loudly, raising his palms in front of his chest. “I’m just being friendly.”

“She’s working,” Five repeats, “so she can’t tell you to leave her alone, but I can.”

Leonard frowns. “You can’t tell me what to do,” he snarls. “You’re what? Eight?”

“Thirteen,” Five corrects. 

Inwardly, he rolls his eyes. Bullies always jump to his age when they try and intimidate him. He glances behind the counter and is glad to see that Vanya too busy to interrupt them with the morning rush, although it doesn’t stop her from shooting him worried glances and frowning. 

“Whatever,” Leonard sneers. “Get out of here with that attitude, kid.”

Five scoffs. He’s about to retaliate when a big hand comes down on his shoulder. 

“Is there a problem here?” 

Five peers up at Diego and then shoots a smirk at Leonard. Five curls his body away from Leonard and tucks himself next to Diego’s side. Diego probably knows something’s up with the amount of touching Five does, but he doesn’t call him out on it. 

“Yes!” Five says at the same time Leonard denies it. 

Five allows Diego to curl an arm around his shoulders protectively. “He wouldn’t leave Vanya alone,” Five whines, channeling a bit of Klaus’ dramatics, “and then he yelled at me for no reason.”

Diego’s eyebrows raise. He pats Five once on the shoulder and disentangles them, reaching over to put a hand on Leonard’s shoulder. “Leonard, it looks like it’s time for you to leave.”

“He’s lying,” Leonard says, looking at Five. “I didn’t raise my voice at you.”

Five looks up at Diego with wet eyes. If he blinked a million times to get them there, no one has to know. 

Leonard extends a finger and says, voice rising, “Tell him. Tell him I didn’t yell at you.”

Five makes himself flinch, even though he’s in no way really scared of Leonard. Leonard tries to take a step toward Five, but Diego steps between him and guides him easily out of the cafe. 

“What the fuck  _ is it _ with you and my brothers, man?”  Five hears Diego say to Leonard as he deposits Leonard out onto the sidewalk. “Stay away from ‘em,” he drawls. He shuts the door as Leonard slinks away. 

“You good?” He asks Five when he returns. 

Five scoffs, abandoning his hurt affect almost immediately and straightening his shoulders. “I’m fine,” he says. “I don’t like him.”

“Yeah, I kind of picked up on that,” Diego says. “Get your stuff. I’m going to go talk to Vanya.”

Five nods and does as he’s told with minimal fussing, considering Diego took care of the problem in thirty seconds tops. He watches carefully as Diego talks to Vanya and smiles when Diego leans across the counter to sling an arm around Vanya in a half-hug. She still looks a little harried as she leans against his shoulder, but she nods repeatedly as he murmurs something too soft for Five to hear to her. 

She pats him gently on the arm as he leans back. Five makes his way back over with his stuff. 

“Are you okay?” Vanya says as soon as he’s within earshot. 

He nods at her. “I’m fine.”

“Okay,” she says, and then sterner, “You didn’t have to do that, Five.”

He snorts. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“We’ll talk later,” she says, instead of trying to argue with him. “I’ll see you after work?”

She directs her last statement to Diego and he nods in agreement. 

“Call if you need anything,” Diego says. Then, overriding her protests - “Seriously, anything. If that creep comes back, I’ll send Luther.”

Five laughs to himself. Luther may be a hulking, intimidating presence, but his insides are gooier than the fudge brownies Mrs. Cho has perfected. He waves to Vanya as the next customer comes up to the register and she smiles at him in return. 

Five follows Diego out to his car and puts his stuff in the back. He climbs into the passenger seat and waits for Diego to start the car. Diego waits to drive off until they’re both buckled in. 

Diego waits until they’re on the highway before he asks, “You wanna tell me what that was about?”

“Nope,” Five says, popping the  _ p _ at the end. “Not at all.”

“Those were some intense crocodile tears for nothing,” Diego says. 

Five can hear the quotation marks around  _ nothing  _ in Diego’s voice. He rolls his eyes but says placatingly, “If it becomes something, I’ll let you know. Until then, it’s nothing more than intense paranoia.”

“If you say so,” Diego says, side-eyeing him. 

They spend the rest of the car ride in silence, but it isn’t awkward. Diego turns on some rock station that he turns down low. Five can’t make out the words in the songs, but the melodies are nice. He leans his head against the window and watches the scenery fly by. 

Soon enough, Diego pulls into the modest two-story that their mom calls home now. It’s a lot nicer than the veritable mansion they grew up in. The exterior is painted a soft yellow and the gardens in front are overflowing with deep pink knockout roses, the kind Mom always wanted to plant at their childhood home but couldn’t thanks to Sir Reginald Hargreeves. 

Two white rocking chairs lay claim to the front porch and Grace sits perched in one, like a queen surveying her kingdom. She brightens when she sees them pull up and stands so she can meet them at the steps.

“Diego,” she greets warmly, hands reaching up to cup at his cheeks. He pecks a kiss onto her forehead and squeezes her elbows before moving inside the house. “And Five,” she says, wrapping him into a hug. He leans into it, hands clutching at the sides of her dress, before he steps back and says hello. 

“Hi, baby,” she murmurs, pushing the hair back from his forehead. “Do you want pancakes? I know they’re your favorite.”

“Yeah, Mom,” Five says, grinning a little bit. “That sounds great.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, it's been forever! It's been a bit busy on my end, so apologies for not getting a chapter out last week. Happy Mother's Day to all you fellow moms out there and if your mom sucks, congrats, I'm your mom now.


	10. slow jams

Five focuses very intently on carving his pancake around the blueberry smile and dunks each triangle of pancake into syrup before shoving it in his mouth.

Diego watches him do it with it with the intensity one looks at a car crash. 

“Stop it,” Five says, not even bothering to look at him. He cuts out a triangle from the space that could be considered the nose, if pancakes had noses. 

“Has anyone ever told you how weird you are?” Diego spears into his own pancakes, irreverent of the blueberry smile. 

“People who stalk other people as their day job can’t throw stones,” Five says, still intent upon his breakfast. 

“I do not stalk people,” Diego says. 

“If the shoe fits,” Five shrugs. Once all the pancake around the blueberry smile has been decimated, he sits back and smirks at Diego. 

“You are such a creep,” Diego says fondly.

“Mom,” Five calls, voice rising, “Diego’s looking at me. Make him stop.”

Grace sweeps around the kitchen until she’s right next to Five and places her hand gently on the side of his head, pulling him to her. Five’s smirk turns smug. “Diego, be nice,” she says. 

Five leans against her stomach and lets her pet his hair for a long moment before he turns back to what’s left of his pancake. He cuts each piece just so there’s a blueberry in each of them and then steadily works on putting his favorite parts of the pancake into his mouth. 

“Why don’t you just ask for a pancake full of blueberries?” Diego asks, rolling his eyes.

“It’s not the same,” Five scoffs, “and anyway, I don’t criticize you for your weird habits, do I?”

Diego outright laughs at that. “That is your  _ favorite _ hobby, don’t lie.”

Five doesn’t deny it. He slides his eyes across the table and winks. 

Once he’s finished and they’ve cleared their plates, Grace says, “I think I’d like to go to the farmers market today.”

She stares out the window above the sink and drums her fingers against the counter. 

“Yeah, Mom,” Diego agrees, “whatever you want.”

Grace spins, a happy smile on her face, and says, “We can pick up something for lunch there too. Then we can eat in …” she trails off for a moment, eyes dimming slightly before brightening up again. “We can eat in the garden. Doesn’t that sound nice?”

Five nods.

He doesn’t want to say that Sir Reginald Hargreeves’ reign of terror affected him and Grace the most, because that simply wasn’t true, but it did sit freshest is their minds, he thinks. The rest of his siblings managed to make it out of the house before their father kicked it, though. Five remembers lots of meals that were either spent alone in the basement kitchen or tense in the dining room, while Sir Reginald Hargreeves’ recording of choice droned on in the background. 

Dinner was very lonely after the last of his siblings left. 

There certainly wasn’t an opportunity to have lunch in the courtyard. Reginald would have thrown a fit and none of his fits ever went well for those around him. 

As has become an almost daily habit, Five thinks how glad he is that Sir Reginald Hargreeves is dead. There will be nothing out of him now and in the future. 

“Let me just go get cleaned up,” Grace says, “and then we can go.”

  
  
  


The farmers market is as quintessential to the city as the university is, in that both have been around almost as long as anyone can remember. Grace bounces from stall to stall, testing the plumpness of each tomato and smelling each flower she encounters. Diego follows her at an indulgent pace with bags of produce that she’s found deserving and Five zigs and zags, seemingly at random, toward every stall that catches his interest. 

He’s standing at a stall full of bread, debating which he thinks Vanya would like best, when he hears a familiar voice. 

“-I’ve been scoping out places that I think will work well for our expansion. I think I’ve found the perfect one!”

Five carefully sets down the loaf of sourdough he’d been sniffing and rounds the corner of the tent to peer at the speaker and then swears. 

It’s fucking  _ Leonard _ . 

He’s talking with an older woman. Five doesn’t hear what she says in response, but Leonard laughs. 

“Hopefully within the year,” he continues, gesturing with his arms. 

Five turns back to the bread, resolutely ignoring the current bane of his existence. Why the man has to turn up at every place Five goes, he’ll never know. 

The stall owner asks, “Do you need any help, dear?”

Five shrugs. “I’m trying to pick something out that my sister would like.”

“Oh, how sweet,” she says. “Take a look at this cracked wheat sourdough.”

Five tests the loaf she hands him in his hands and lifts it up to sniff. “Would it be good with jam?”

“Oh, yeah,” she enthuses. “Toast it and then put a thin layer of butter and then the jam. Perfection.”

“I’ll take two,” he says, handing over the appropriate money. “Now, who’s got the best jam?”

She directs him to a stall across the market and he thanks her. 

Five catches back up to his mom and Diego fifteen minutes later, laden with bread, jam, and a container of peaches. Diego hands him a bag and says, “Good haul?

“Yes,” Five says, and then, “what are the odds that Allison will make me a peach tart?”

“Could go either way,” Diego says. 

“I’m sure if you asked her nicely, she would,” Grace says. 

“Ooh,” Diego crows, “that’s going to be tough for you, isn’t it?”  
  
“I’m perfectly nice,  _ thanks _ ,” Five says, dusting off his sleeve. “You could do with some brushing up on your manners, though.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, it's been like ten years, what's up?


End file.
